


the next act, waiting in the wings

by thepeacering



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:35:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeacering/pseuds/thepeacering
Summary: Bowie awakens some dog-napping tendencies within Dan.





	the next act, waiting in the wings

**Author's Note:**

> totally went over the 500 word limit for the pet-themed flash fic fest, but I couldn’t help myself. sorry!

So… Dan kind of wanted to steal Bowie. 

Bowie, the fluffy golden retriever who belonged to one of Martyn’s friends and would be gone within the hour. Dan had already plotted a few different ways they could keep the dog, ranging from staging a break in at their flat, to simply misplacing the dog. Accidents were bound to happen, right? 

All it took was one look at Phil, sitting across from him on the couch, a pair of gangly arms wrapped around the dog, goofy crooked grin on his face. Seeing Phil this effortlessly happy, fully enamoured with Bowie — it was almost too difficult to resist. Surely he’d earn some good boyfriend points with him for dog-napping the dog that made him smile like that. 

Maybe his owners wouldn’t notice if he didn’t come home.

It felt different, to have a dog here, in their own space. Whenever they got the chance to give a dog a quick snuggle while visiting friends and family, or when they’d been on the shoot for their dog calendar last year, there was less time and reason to become so attached. 

But here, in the comfort of their own home, things felt wholly different. They’d just wrapped up filming a scene where Bowie had sat fidgeting with excitement between the two of them. Their filming equipment had been shoved to the side, for fear of Bowie (and potentially, _Phil_ ) bumping into it and causing an even bigger mess that was already their flat, sans dog. 

He was surprisingly well trained, as well trained as an eleven month old pup could be, for which Dan was thankful. The last thing they needed was a rowdy pup mucking up their pre-furnished rented flat. They’d snuck Bowie in without bothering to notify the landlords - or really, Dan had _‘conveniently forgotten’_ , which was really just Dan lingo for being equal parts too lazy, awkward and nervous to ask. 

It was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, anyway. 

Besides, Phil couldn’t stay mad at him for it. Dan watched as his boyfriend sighed, almost wistfully, as he ran his fingers through Bowie’s fur. The pup wasn’t quite fully grown yet, and his coat still somehow had that silky-smooth puppy feel to it. Soft as it was, Dan knew that Phil probably shouldn’t have rubbed his face against the dog. His allergies were unforgiving, and Bowie had shed enough of his pretty long hair all over their couch to recreate another dog entirely. 

When Phil stepped away from the couch with a sniffle, a dawdling hand trailing off of Bowie’s fluffy neck, Dan couldn’t help but laugh. There they were. 

“I seriously think I’m allergic,” he whined. “I’m all sniffly now.” Dan’s laughter soon trailed off, and he shook his head, reaching towards Bowie. Phil sniffled on, “I’d power through it. Even if it meant two tablets a day.”

The determination in Phil’s voice was sweet, even if his idea was a little short sighted. 

“Hear that, Bowie? Phil would sacrifice his sinuses every single day to keep you around, yes he would!” He couldn’t help but easily slip into the baby talk, scratching a smiling Bowie behind his ears. A pink, floppy tongue lolled out the side of the dog’s mouth and fuck, Dan could physically _feel_ his heart melting. 

Martyn had gone for a walk to leave them to it, insisting on giving them their space to film. He’d wondered if there were some ulterior motives there, leaving them alone in their flat with a dog — after all, Martyn had seen them film countless times before — but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before Martyn had dipped out of their flat with the pointed excuse of needing Starbucks, pronto. 

He had half a mind to voice the nagging pessimistic thought in the back of his mind that _maybe they weren’t suited for a dog_ — but one look at the fluff monster on their couch was enough to bite his tongue. Of course they were suited for a dog, Phil’s allergies be damned. 

He’d absolutely be lying if he said he didn’t want a dog of their own. They’d discussed it, at length, the logistics of not only if, but _how_ and _when_. Things were still too open-ended, with the tour looming right around the corner. Tour aside, they didn’t have a dog friendly place anyways; and truthfully, he wasn’t even sure of his abilities to take care of himself, let alone another living, breathing creature. 

Although it was just a dog, something about it felt like a lot more than that. 

While Dan found himself lost in thought, Bowie found himself losing interest in Dan. He jumped from the sofa, trailing Phil across the lounge, tail wagging a million miles a minute in search of someone willing to pay him more attention. Dan laid a hand across his chest dramatically, feigning offense. “I can’t believe even the dog knows you’re the quirky, fun dad.”

“He just wants to stay with me because I’m the one who’s been feeding him too many treats,” Phil laughed, reaching down to scratch the dog beneath the chin. He looked up across the room at Dan, suddenly serious. “How long do you think a prison sentence is for stealing a dog?”

“We’d better not find out,” he replied with a grin, pulling his phone from his pocket to find a text from Martyn, letting them know he was on his way back. Which was for the best, really. As much as he would’ve loved to have kept Bowie around forever, Bowie already had some human parents who loved him. And had time for him. 

Bowie probably had a massive garden to run through. His owners probably took him for a morning and an evening walk, because they had the motivation to get out of bed every morning. Maybe they even went on _runs_ together through the park. They probably had no problems socializing and wouldn’t recoil at the idea of talking to other dog owners at the dog park. Bowie seemed like he belonged to the kind of family who had their shit together. 

“Babe,” Phil’s coaxing voice snapped him from his self-deprecating daze. “You alright?”

Dan nodded, “Just thinking about things.”

“Bowie, look what you’ve done,” Phil chided the dog playfully. “You wagged your cute little tail all around the lounge and sent Dan into tailspin of his own.”

Dan just rolled his eyes, pulling up Twitter on his phone, while Phil fluttered about the kitchen doing something or other, Bowie tagging along happily. 

When Martyn returned and exchanged two Starbucks cups for Bowie’s collar and leash, he was thankful. It was enough to make him tug at his own collar, to be faced with something so tantalizingly close, yet just out of reach. He longed for the day that this would become a normal part of their routine — longed for it so badly he was actually considering turning to a life of crime stealing innocent puppies. 

He just… really wanted them to have the well-trained dog, the house with the endless garden, the works. He wanted so badly to be that little family that just… had their shit together. Wanted it so badly he could feel that green eyed monster beginning to rear it’s ugly head within him. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t help feeling glad that Martyn had brought Bowie here as the middleman — he didn’t know if he could’ve handled looking Bowie’s owners in the eye. 

As they said their goodbyes to Martyn and a somehow still wildly energetic Bowie, Phil swooped in from behind, wrapping his hands around Dan’s waist, pressing kisses into his jaw. Leave it to Phil to pick up on one of Dan’s funks before he even had the chance to vocalize them himself. 

“Someday.” He murmured, voice still a little on the sniffly side. “Even if I sneeze to death, we’ll have that for real someday.”

“I know,” Dan smiled, squeezing a hand around Phil’s wrist, swaying into his embrace a little. “I know. Now get your snotty little nose off me before I rip it off your face, you damn dork.”

It wasn’t the right time, not right now. But it would be, one day soon. If the last eight years were anything to go by, he figured they’d be there before he knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> :) come say hi on tumblr! @moossage


End file.
